


Take Your Time (and All of Mine)

by denilmo



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Bittersweet, Dancing, Fluff, M/M, Zine: Found Beneath the Stars - a promnis zine
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-20
Updated: 2020-10-20
Packaged: 2021-03-09 06:01:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,000
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27119254
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/denilmo/pseuds/denilmo
Summary: Sometimes the things that go unsaid speak the loudest.
Relationships: Prompto Argentum/Ignis Scientia
Kudos: 25





	Take Your Time (and All of Mine)

**Author's Note:**

> Ahhh I'm so excited to share my piece for the Promnis zine Found Beneath the Stars.
> 
> It was a real treat being a part of this project. The promnis love is real & I'm thankful for everyone who was a part of this zine & made it happen. If you missed getting your hands on a copy, keep an eye out for leftover sales (and remember that proceeds go to charity!)
> 
> Thanks for reading 💜💛

Ignis sits quietly in the corner of the hotel-lobby-turned-dance-floor. For Ignis, for every memory here, this lobby had always been quiet, pristine in its proud display of elegance. But now there is lively music, a pair of guitars building rapport above the steady drum beat. He can feel the vibrations in the floor as the people dance, celebrating. A beer had been put in his hands and he’d learned that there had been an impromptu wedding. Insomnia had certainly changed in the few years since light returned. 

He sips at the drink out of politeness, and it’s lovely to hear people happy and hopeful; that was worth celebrating alone, especially when they sacrificed so much. The last memorable time he’d been in this hotel lobby had been seventeen years ago - his eighteenth birthday - nothing special about it except that Noctis had been there. A suite rented at the top floor, pool access, and a few friends. Nothing special at all, and yet sorely missed.

Turning another year older here should feel odd, should make him feel nostalgic, but there is nothing. What most people fail to realize is that nothing isn’t nothing at all; nothing is in fact, something -- and it sits heavy and hollow at once, pleasantly uncomfortable. The drink goes down easier. 

Ignis sighs as he pulls the empty bottle away, but before he can even set it down it’s taken from his grip. “I can’t believe you’re  _ here _ of all places!"

Although it’s been weeks since he’s heard that voice, he knows it anywhere. A smile softly stretches across his face. “Prompto. The last I heard you were in Altissia documenting their efforts to rebuild.”

“I was, yeah. I actually got back into town this morning,” he replies with a huge grin.

Ignis can picture that happy curve of his lips, and although he still sees him in his mind's eye as boyish, barely into adulthood, he knows there are lines weathered and etched into his skin and facial hair that says otherwise. He’s mapped that face countless times, and not for the first time Ignis aches to see what he looks like.

“This morning? What a coincidence to run into each other here.”

“I was actually looking for you,” Prompto admits. “You weren't at your apartment, or the library, and Gladio said he had no idea where you went to after you guys had lunch.”

“I was…" he takes a deep breath; he's not sure how to explain it, that after leaving a birthday lunch with Gladiolus and Iris, he had been walking to his apartment when, out of nowhere, he'd  _ smelled _ him. It hadn't been just the same detergent or soap, or the same cologne he had bought for Noctis when he learned of his nuptials to Lunafreya. It hadn't been just the hint of chocolate that Noctis had often sneaked while Iggy made him dinner, or the scent of the library hanging onto his clothes. It was the combination of scents that was  _ undoubtedly _ Noctis. 

Ignis doesn't know how to explain that even though he'd known it was impossible, he had turned around and began walking, following the direction of the scent. He doesn't know how to explain the longing that had filled his bones -- to just touch him, feel his warmth just once more… to hear his voice, if only just a whisper of it. He doesn't know how to say that he'd been brought to tears when a cool breeze came through, and just as quickly as he had caught his scent, it had been lifted away. He doesn't know how to tell him that he had walked around Insomnia all afternoon, visiting the graves of memories.

Prompto can tell there is so much Ignis wants to say; he watches the fight play out on his face, more expressive these days than Ignis is aware of. It's when he reaches out to touch him that Ignis speaks again, and his hand never finds its destination. 

“I was just… getting reacquainted with the city. It's changed so much, yet it's still the same.”

There's a soft hum and the words seem to fall effortlessly. “Kinda like us.”

A wry smile tugs at Ignis’ lips. “Yes, I suppose a lot like us.”

When it goes silent between them, Prompto begins to wonder if he'd said something he shouldn't have. He looks out at the group of people -- whose boisterous laughter and flushed faces tell him that they've been in the midst of celebrating for some time. Another fast-paced dance song begins to play, and one of the guests coaxes the attendant from behind the counter to join them. 

“Didn't ever take you for a party crasher,” he teases, tries again.

Ignis smiles faintly, hides it with a small drop of his head. “My legs grew tired and I stopped here…”

It seems as if Prompto's thoughts stray to the one evening Ignis had been imagining just a short while ago. He snorts and smacks Ignis’ knee. “Remember your birthday here that one year? Noctis had tried his best to make you a birthday cake and when he brought it out, Gladio did a cannonball jump and ruined it.”

“Noctis was livid,” Ignis replies, nearly stone-faced.

“And yet you still ate a piece.”

“It was the least I could do for his efforts.” This time his expression brightens for just a moment, as if he can smell the salt water of the pool, as if he can taste it splattered along the frosting. 

“That was a fun night,” Prompto says with a hum. 

A rush of laughter explodes followed by clapping, and it derails the conversation, which Ignis is glad for. Even if those memories aren't exclusively his, he's more content with keeping them to himself. 

“Come on,” Prompto says suddenly, and Ignis feels his touch sweep down his forearm and curl around his hand. “If we're gonna be sitting in on the celebration we should at least dance.”

“Prompto--”

“Look, they've already coaxed a bag boy and the attendant behind the counter onto the floor to join them. It's only a matter of time before they come for us. Wouldn't you rather dance with me?” 

For a moment Ignis can see that pronounced pout and the little crease in Prompto's brow. He laughs and the sound is melodic and far lighter than he feels. “Alright, one dance.”

Prompto pulls him to his feet with a chuckle and there's a cheer as they step onto the floor. Prompto squeezes his hand as he watches their feet, counts the beat, and then he smiles. "To the left," Prompto directs as they fall into the group dance. 

Ignis shuffles to the side, grinning even as he trips over the unfamiliar steps, as Prompto begins to count aloud for him. The happiness of the other guests is palpable in the midst of the dance, and infectious, it seems, as he hears Prompto's laugh ring out; it's so light, musical, and as his heart rate elevates and he focuses on that sound, Ignis can't help but smile.

It is as they finally fall into the rhythm of the song and find a home in it that it is over and applause sounds through the lobby. Some people leave the floor as a softer tune begins to play, and Ignis stands there, lost, as the acoustic guitar is strummed. Prompto pulls him closer, insisting his hand should rest upon his hip. Ignis can  _ feel _ his eyes upon him and he turns his muted gaze down in his direction.

Ignis has always had such beautiful eyes, and even for as pained as they look these days Prompto still thinks they're one of the most magnificent things he's ever seen. That doesn't mean that it doesn't break his heart; it's only been a few years and they are all still grieving and trying to move forward however they can. Only, Ignis often looks like he's trapped distantly behind them. All Prompto has ever wanted to do was reach through that hazy film and pull him out. Even if he can reach him just for tonight he'll consider it progress. 

He pulls Ignis into the next step, a soft sway, toe to toe. The heat of their bodies reaches out to meet each other as the familiar strength of arms circle one another. The soft tenor of the singer's voice carries through the air and Prompto holds him close, their bodies rocking together in a slow sway around the dance floor. The chorus swells, a vulnerable if hopeful proclamation of love, and Prompto adjusts his arms, hugging Ignis' neck and boldly leaning in to rest against his chest.

Ignis' breath catches in the middle of his throat; Prompto is so warm and solid and comforting, and he feels like he doesn't deserve it right now, never mind how much he actually  _ wants _ it. Ignis is acutely aware of the way Prompto’s hands flex and tighten, holding onto him as if he knows he’s going to try to separate, to retreat back into himself. 

“Dance with me, Iggy.” It’s part-command, part-request, part-plea, and his breath fans over his collarbone as he sighs, presses his face against him.

“I do believe I fulfilled my one song agreement.”

“Bandersnatch.”

Their steps halt, the music carrying on around them and a fine brow arches on Ignis’ face. “Pardon?”

“It was a long time ago, but I saved your ass while we were fighting a bandersnatch and you said you owed me one. I’m cashing in. Dance with me.” Prompto lifts his head, staring Ignis down before he can offer a rebuttal. “I’m not going to let you go.”

Ignis can feel the weight of his words, the ones that go unsaid, that filter into his chest and dig into his ribs and curl around his heart as Prompto’s hand curls around the back of his neck. He moves when Prompto pulls him closer, their heads touching, and Prompto can hear his unspoken words, too.  _ Please, please don’t let go _ .

He softly smiles as they begin to sway once more, Ignis taking the lead as Prompto’s fingers thread into his hair.  _ I won’t, I’m right here _ .

It should be alarming how well Prompto can disarm him with so little to work with, but Ignis welcomes it, welcomes the intimate tenderness he has missed these past months. He wraps his arms around him, clutching at the back of his shirt to keep his hands from trembling. Vulnerability was never something he wore well.  _ Stay with me. _

Prompto’s other hand slides up and squeezes Ignis’ shoulder in a gesture that is sincere and supportive -- loving.  _ Always _ ,  _ Iggy _ .

The soft harmony of voices drifts over them like a veil shielding them from the other guests and Ignis swallows thickly, afraid of being so close and yet wanting it so desperately. Prompto, selfless, caring Prompto seems to understand, softly massaging the back of his neck as the guitar grows a little louder, the croon of insecurities like an arrow piercing through his heart. But it’s no more painful than seeing the struggle and hurt cross Ignis’ features and manifest as wetness in the corners of his eyes.

Unable to keep pace, Ignis pulls away with a slight shake of his head. “My apologies, I-”

“I love you, Ignis.”

Fingers dab at his eyes, disbelief numbing the sorrow for just a moment. “Prompto…”

He holds onto Ignis’ shoulders and surges up onto his toes, pressing their mouths together, sure and unyielding, even as there is a chorus of coos from nearby guests at their display. Prompto is uncompromising and refuses to let him go, pouring everything -- every apology and declaration -- he has into the kiss.  _ I love you _ .

Ignis surrenders in that moment, and it feels good. For now it’s more than enough, and he winds his arms around Prompto, holding him close as he reciprocates, forgetting the fear and the ache balled in the center of his chest.  _ I love you, too _ .


End file.
